Carbon Copy
by patientalien
Summary: Lucas' reflections on being a soldier.


There's something about doing the same things every single day that I absolutely hate. It's like I'm caught in some time loop and I keep reliving the same day over, and over, and over, and over.... There are little things that are different, of course. The number of times Hudson expresses his displeasure at me or Tim, the number of times Ford and Henderson almost...but not quite... flirt on the bridge (or anywhere else, for that matter...). The number of times I have to remind Tony of Hudson's inspections of the living quarters... 

Little things like that change. Everything else stays the same. I run the same stupid scans every day, I configure the WSKRS in the same arrangements every single day, I say "Yes Sir," about ten thousand times every single day. I sit with the same people in mess hall every day, and for my own protection, I eat the same thing every day - because the other option is "Turkey surprise". Last tour, Miguel had that once. It was certainly a surprise. 

Not once since Hudson's taken over has my routine changed. Other than rotating shifts (which you don't really notice, given there's not really any day or night), nothing changes. And I hate it. 

At least before, when Bridger ran things, and I was still a civilian, I had some freedom to change what I did from day to day. One day I'd be in the lab, one day I'd work with Darwin, one day I'd just stay in my room... But I never did the same thing three days in a row, unless I was doing something I liked to do. Now I just do what I'm told and deal with it. 

I feel like I'm suffocating here. I liked the *thought* of being enlisted. I liked the *thought* of having a title, a rank, a purpose. It wasn't as though I had much of a choice, but when I first started, I liked it. I belonged in a way I hadn't as a civilian. I had a rank - I meant something, as I hadn't before. I was given a whole new life, a whole new identity. In exchange for my freedom. 

Maybe I thought all that before, maybe I thought being in the Navy was one of those romanticized... *things*. I thought it would be like the movies. Was I wrong or what? It's damn hard work, and for nothing. At least when Bridger was in charge, I got a "thank you", or "hey Lucas, good job..." But now it's just "Ensign Wolenczak, run a viral sweep," and "Ensign Wolenczak, save the world." With not even so much as a nod in my direction, not even so much as an indication he even knows I'm not a robot. 

Because I'm not a robot. I'm not a drone. I'm not one of Hudson's perfect carbon-copy soldiers. And I doubt I ever will be. I think that's one of the reasons Hudson seems to hate me and Tim so much. We don't conform. We're.. different, and Hudson must hate that. He wants everyone to be just the ways he wants them... and no matter how hard we try to please him, Tim and I somehow get things a bit twisted around. 

I do try, really hard, to get on Hudson's good side. I have to stay on the seaQuest, no matter what. And if that means becoming one of those that I once protested against, then so be it. I'll act like a perfect solider. I'll act like I know what I'm doing. I'll even act like I enjoy it. But I won't, not really. Inside I'll be protesting, yelling at myself for stooping so low, just to stay on board. 

But I have to stay on board. What else do I have otherwise? Nothing. I have stock in Deon International, ever since he and my father's company merged. My mother has a beach house in Virginia, my father has a high-rise penthouse apartment in Buffalo. But I can't go to either one of those places - they both think I'm dead, and I'm not going to do anything to change their viewpoint. I really don't want to live with either one of them again. I refuse to put myself through that. 

I guess the real reason I don't want to go… is because I *like* it here. Despite everything that's changed, despite my hatred of my newfound position, I like it here. This is my home, and no one - not even Hudson - can take it away from me. Even if it means becoming a mechanical drone on the outside, I'm staying here.

Nothing can change that.

* * *

[Contact Diena][1]

   [1]: mailto:jupiter2@ultranet.com



End file.
